


The Sponge Bath

by SophisticatedSnowman



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Car Accident, Comatose Daishou Suguru, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Language, Nursing Kozume Kenma, Overprotective Kuroo Tetsurou, Rare Pairings, cute-ish, love letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 05:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13024053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophisticatedSnowman/pseuds/SophisticatedSnowman
Summary: Daishō Suguru ends up in a coma after a car crash. This is his journey back to the surface. A journey through old (and some more recent) memories.





	The Sponge Bath

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains mild language, mild discription of a car accident and some strange memory imagery. There are no explicit description of any sponge baths, sorry :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know anything about comas or how hospitals work, this is ment to be cute-ish, not necessarily correct :)
> 
> Also: my native language is not english, so please expect, accept and respect any errors. I'm of course grateful if you spot something strange or horrible and let me know in a nice manner :)
> 
> I do not own Haikyuu!! or any of the characters mentioned.

Daishō Suguru took pride in his slipperiness. He was an asshole and well aware of that fact. It didn't matter to him one bit that he knew all too well, that taunting others, picking on them, pointing out random peoples flaws just for fun or personal gain, was wrong. It was part of him. Always had been, always would be. He had long ago written himself off. Come to terms with the fact that his inner potentially nice guy, would never reach the surface. Even now, lying in a hospital bed, he couldn't find it in himself to even consider looking for positives within. He didn't have the desire to do so.

So, not even in the deep corners of a coma could he find loving feelings or positive thoughts about, well, anything. Not that he minded. He mostly felt safe and confident with himself. A bit lonely at times, perhaps, but it was far better than the alternative. Heartbreak, people reprimanding him for his ways, he didn't need that.

-

The first time he came in to his room, he was almost completely silent. Suguru could only sort of sense him humming something. He was humming a tune that sounded oddly familiar as he gave him a sponge bath. The soothing sound continued as the man started moving Suguru’s limbs up and down, probably to maintain some muscle in case he ever were to wake up again. Not an outcome Suguru felt confident in.

-

When he came in to his room for the fifth time Suguru anticipated the humming. He sort of looked forwards to it, wanted to figure out where the familiar tune belonged. He wasn't disappointed, the humming continued all the way through his sponge bath. It continued well into what he had come to think of as “the throwing his limbs around” hour, when suddenly the humming stopped. Suguru mentally frowned, hoping it came across to his helper, warning him not to piss him of by breaking the routine. Then, all of a sudden an angelically, monotonous, voice chimed through to the depths of his brain. “So, how are you today Daishō-san?”

Later he found himself wondering why his thought-response was “I'm upset, keep humming” instead of his standard “Shut your stupid pie-hole” or “I'm glad I'm in a coma so I won't have to look at your ugly-ass face”.

-

By the ninth sponge bath he had gotten used to the random one sided conversation. It was as if his helper weren't used to speaking out loud. His voice was soft and the words were spars, but the amount of talking increased as time went by. Suguru came to trust that the humming would return, which he was quite sure he hated. He didn't want to look forwards to anything. It was against his nature to trust in general.

-

The thirteenth sponge bath was executed by a stranger. A woman with a shrill voice that kept asking stupid questions about the recent weather. Daishō finally felt like himself again then. He wanted to freak that stupid woman out so badly, he was sure he almost woke up. The stretching of his limbs was horrible, it felt like she tried to rip him apart.

The contentment of feeling like himself again disappeared to quickly. Something in his brain started nagging him about missing that fucking humming.

-

Somehow he knew, just before the doors opened, that it was that time again. After yesterday's disaster of a sponge bath, he readied himself. Mentally frowning, inwardly growling. Pissed off at the shrill-voiced woman, and completely gutted and disappointed at the angelically humming, comforting voice that had abandoned him. No matter what met him today, he would hold yesterday's reminder of who he really was at the forefront of his brain. Not one thought of wonder or nostalgia would be allowed to penetrate his wall of anger and distrust. He couldn't afford to loose himself now.

Then the humming started. Low, and sort of melancholic. Suguru tried to braise himself. Tried so hard to be mad, to channel his anger onto his stone-cold facial features. You don't just walk away from Daishō Suguru, you pay a price of constant taunting and ridicule if you just look at him the wrong way. Making him rely on you and then leave, you're dead.

“Good morning Daishō-san” the voice murmured. “Good morning my ass!” Suguru mentally growled back, “Who the fuck are you to wish me a good -anything- after abandoning me for so long?” He tried his best, again, to make his true feelings shine through the most likely quite comatose expression on his face. “Sorry for not coming to see you yesterday,” the angelic murmur continued, “I had to visit my sick grandmother in hospital. Do you remember me telling you about her the other day?” For a moment, or maybe ten, Daishō tried to remember. He really did. But the thing was, trying to orient himself through recent memories, or any memories in general really, felt like swimming in a big bowl of thick porridge wearing a slightly oversiced wet-suit. “No!” He tried to growl, but he could feel the odd lack of lip movement on his face. Daishō felt himself drift away from the murmur of the angelic voice.

-

On the twenty first morning, or evening, (mid-day, who knew?) Daishō had long since started to inwardly hum along with his helper, the melody now more than familiar. The feeling of efficient, delicate hands cleaning his body was good. Better than he would ever admit outside of his comatose state. Deep in thought of hands and melodies he was suddenly interrupted by the angelic voice; “I have tried to contact your friends.” The feeling of laughing maniacally, whitout making the tiniest sound or movement, rippled through Suguru's body like an earthquake on an already demolished planet. “Which friends?” he wanted to ask, but he drifted away before he could even try to mentally frown, vaguely hearing the voice continuously in the background.

For the first time since he ended up in hospital, he felt like he was dreaming. He was in a gym, wearing his high school volleyball uniform. He found himself standing completely still in the middle of the court for what felt like the longest time, watching his old team play back and forth. After a decade he started counting the players. A sudden realisation hit him, there were seven people on his side of the court including him. He tried to run, he needed to get off the court immediately, but he felt like he was glued to the ground. A sudden cartoon flash-back made him dip down and untie his shoes, step out of them and sprint. He found himself hours later on a bench just outside the gym, swinging his legs uncharacteristically. Looking down at his feet, he wondered briefly why he was wearing pokésocks. One foot clad in a Charmander sock, the other? “Nice socks,” a low voice claimed, “Bulbasaur always were a favourite of mine.” That's it, The other foot were clad in a Bulbasaur sock. The owner of the voice went back to his handheld game, the tune of the game continuously playing in the background.

-

The tune from the game continued to surge through his brain throughout the next sponge bath session. The shrill woman, with the ill will, were back and she was accompanied by synthetic game-pop. Not music, but music nonetheless. It looped through Suguru's brain for the rest of the day.

-

“How’s your grandma?” Suguru desperately wanted to ask. It had been twenty three days since the accident and he sort of remembered pieces of it now. He was in a car driving towards… Who could tell, not Suguru at least. Somewhere important? It must have been kind of traumatic, since every time his mind remembered the car starting to swirl, he blacked out.

-

That's right; the grandma! How was she doing? For the first time since he encountered the humming angel, Suguru wished for the humming to stop, for the quiet, one-sided, conversation to begin. He knew the music well enough by now, he could hum it in his sleep (witch he sort of actually did, all the time. At least if you counted being comatose as sleeping.) Suguru waited (im)patiently for a reply to the question he was sure he had mentally frowned three days ago. “Kuro says hello” the voice proclaimed, “but Mika’s apparently in Chicago, so I can't get a hold of her.” “Why on earth would you want to contact Mika of all people?” He silently asked. To silently apparently, since there yet again were no answer. “And who the fuck are ‘Kuro’?” Seriously, this coma better get the fuck away asap, or I will blow a fuse; “You STILL haven't told me about your GRANDMA…!!!???” He tried to mentally shout the last bit at the angelically voiced person, but there were no replay so it probably didn't work.

-

In the land of dreams and drugs, he could feel his feet swoosh silently back and forth, Bulbasaur and Charmander dancing a slow waltz in the air, while tinny game-pop played from his right. The memory of wanting to stretch his hand out and touch his bench-neighbour’s hair made him simultaneously want to throw up, shout and scream. He could feel colour darken his cheeks. Why was it so hot out here in the hallway?

-

“Kuro’s here to see you,” the angel said on the thirtieth day, breaking routine so badly that not-comatose Suguru would have punched him straight in the face. “Who's Kuro?” Comatose-Suguru tried to voice the question yet again. No answer received of course. “Hey, man! Long time no see, hah?” A strangely familiar voice shrilled in from his left, ‘Kuro’ presumably. Suguru drifted of to the land of ancient memories, trying to catch a face to that annoying voice. The aggression cursing through his body from hearing less than ten words out of this shits mouth, had already persuaded him that this was no ‘friend’. Why would angel-san bring a person that brought forwards these kind of feelings? “Remember our last volleyball match? When you left halfway through the second set?” “I'm sorry I treated you like shit after, just a bit overprotective at times, haha!” The highly provocative voice had apparently continued talking through Suguru's mind search. He drifted of again.

Volleyball. That was the key. He would have to sort out this mystery of pokésocks, tinny music, volleyball and taunting voices. Suguru was once again sitting on the hallway bench, listening to game-pop. The desire to reach out and touch his companions hair was overwhelming. Why?

-

The car swirled, hit some kind of obstacle and was thrown up in the air. Suguru could feel dizziness shoot through his entire being as the car rolled around in free air. It hit the ground with such force it bounced up in the air again, the sound of the impact so loud that he lost his hearing. “Yeah, that's right,” he thought, “might as well die here, it's not like he's going to accept my feelings anyway.”

Humming brought him out of his memory-bubble. It was time for his thirty first sponge bath. What was it with the last memory? He couldn't quite place it, but something was missing, a lingering thought bothering the back of his mind. “I'm sorry for bringing Kuro in last night, you actually looked kind of annoyed?” The sound of a small chuckle filled the air. “First time since you came here I have seen even a slight change in your face though, so maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all?” He tried to concentrate on the voice, not wanting to miss anything, but he also wanted to portray his feelings about this stupid ‘Kuro’ shit. That kind of annoying, memory awakening, shitty voiced people had no business being near this hospital as long as Suguru was here. “You will be alright though, Daishō-san?” “I mean, I hope you wake up soon, it's so long since I heard your voice…” “Sorry, I don't mean to pressure you, it's really non of my business…” What's the angel rambling about? Had they met before?

Bulbasaur and Charmander played see-saw in the air in front of him as the tinny game-pop filled the air. Suguru stretched out his right arm and brushed a lock of golden hair out of his bench companions face, tucking it behind his ear. So soft. “Pretty” he said. Or thought. He couldn't be sure. A tall figure with masses of shitty, black hair suddenly loomed in front of him, yelling at him to keep his hands off of his friend. The voice was familiar, and it brought a solid dose of anger rushing through Suguru. He hissed at shitty-hair dude, before getting up on his feet, letting Bulbasaur and Charmander lead him to the locker room.

-

“Daishō-san is lucky to have a friend like you Kozume-san, the effort you make will most likely increase his chances of a full recovery. We do our best of course, but it's always better for the patient to get such stabile and caring attention that only family and close friends can administer during recovery.” A voice, (his doctors?) filled the small room the thirty sixth day. “It's the least I can do, I have a feeling I'm partly responsible for his accident.” What kind of bullshit was that? Suguru remembered enough from the accident now to know he was alone on the road, alone in the car, when he hit a patch of ice that brought the car out of control, there was no fault other than his own. Well, and natures shitty mood swings, that is. And what was it with that name, Kozume? It felt so familiar, he felt goose bumps form on his skin trying to place it. Kozume, someone who apparently tended to him as a friend, not as hospital staff. “Who are you?” “Don't claim to be my friend, I don't do friendships. You would know that if you actually knew me!” He desperately tried to force the words out, but nothing happened. He could feel how frozen his facial muscles were, no hint of movement. “Huh, he's got goose bumps. Does that happen a lot?” The doctor’s voice once again. “He doesn't feel cold and the room temperature seems adequate.” Firm hands touched his arms and face, it felt so wrong. “I haven't seen it before, no.” Angel-san’s, no Kozume-san’s voice offered. “Hm, maybe things are moving forwards then. Keep up the good work Kozume-san, hopefully your friend’s ready to join us again soon.”

As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, the humming filled the air again. Still something was off. The unmistakable smells and sounds normally accompanying a sponge bath were absent. Still the humming continued, moving around the room slowly, nervously. Suddenly he could feel a slight dip in his mattress. Had Kozume-san sat down on his bed? The thought, surprisingly, didn't anger Suguru. Suddenly a small hand gently held his. A thumb drawing slow circles on the back of his right hand. A pleasant feeling filled him and it felt like his toes were curling. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sent you that letter. I didn't think you would try crossing the country on icy roads like that.” “I wonder why you did though? If you were going to turn me down, you could have just ignored it or yelled at me over the phone?” “But I can't really imagine you reacting positively to it either?”

-

Suguru was swimming in a sea of letters. He was flopping around, trying to catch the one piece of paper he needed. The problem was, the more he searched, the more letters surrounded him. He knew it was here somewhere, if it had made such an impact that he had driven off in bad weather conditions there should still be a copy somewhere in his brain. He swam through all the letters he had received so far this lifetime, but he only caught glimpses of the one he searched so desperately for. Black letters on pale red stationary. NO! The car started to swirl again and the letter slipped off of the seat next to him. There it was, he just had to bend down and grab it. He leaned forward and suddenly he was sitting on a bench watching Bulbasaur and Charmander play footsie with each other. Why was this such a nervous memory? Was it even a memory or did his mind play tricks on him? He turned sideways and looked at Kozume-san’s profile. He was still playing his game, tinny music, humming, hair covering his face like a curtain. “I want to kiss you” Suguru thought. Or said. There wasn't an answer, no physical reaction. So a thought then. Good.

The thirty ninth sponge-bath had already started when Suguru resurfaced from his memory stream. The feeling of missing something important stronger than ever. There was something in that last memory. Something he should grab on to and investigate. But it had slipped through his minds fingers like the slippery snake he himself was.

-

Kozume. Kozume, Kozume, Kozume, Kozume? Kozume. Kozume, Kozume. Kozume? It sounded so familiar, yet so wrong. Like it wasn't the right name for the humming voice. But what was it then? And how did they now each other?

His mind placed him on a new bench. This one in the shadows under a tree, right outside of the gym. For some reason or another he still hadn't put shoes on. Embarrassed he tucked Charmander behind Bulbasaur and put them both under the bench. “I'm sorry Ken, I didn't mean to interrupt earlier. You just looked uncomfortable, you know. You always are, you don't really like other people bothering you, right?” Suguru peeked out from underneath his tree. The black haired shit and the boy he wanted to kiss, Kozume, Ken, came walking out of the gym, down the pathway. “I wasn't uncomfortable this time though. I liked the way he tried to interact with me, it didn't feel stressful or rushed. He was, I don't know, being nice?” “I'm so sorry Ken, I just get very protective of you, and you know, he has a reputation for being a total shit, I don't want to see you get hurt.” What a presumptuous little fuck that hair douche was. “I can actually take care of my self Kuro, you can't look after me all the time.” The two of them disappeared out of the school gates. Kuro? The shithead. Hairshit. Argh.

The forty first sponge bath felt strange. Everything went like normal but Suguru had more memories fresh in his mind than earlier. Kozume. Ken. Ken. Ken… It still didn't feel quite right, something was missing. And this Kuro character, why had he ruined everything? Was he in love with the angelically humming entity that was Kozume Ken as well? Huh, that was new. “Am I in love with you?” Shit, his voice still wouldn't leave his mouth.

-

He was back in the car again, but this time the car wasn't moving. The roof were bashed in, so was the door on the driver side. “How am I even alive?” He tried asking, but he was all alone. Why was he here? He was sure there was something important he needed to do before the rescuers came. The letter! It was here, underneath the passenger seat, right? With a bout of superhuman strength he managed to twist his body over to his right, stretching his arm out, fumbling around. There, finally. He had the letter!

He was back in his hospital bed, the letter visible in front of his eyes. He tried to read it but the humming was to distracting. Oh, the forty second sponge bath had just started. He could feel himself wanting to smile. No wonder he was in love with this Ken person, his touch were just as gentle as his voice. No time for silly thoughts now, he had a letter to read.

The black letters on pale red stationary swam in front of his eyes. No matter how hard he concentrated he just couldn't read it. He felt like he was in a hurry, he needed to get through this mystery today. He tried concentrating on the humming again, tried humming along, letting his mind wander.

To Daishō Suguru  
You probably don't remember me, why would you, we only met a couple of times during volleyball tournaments. I'm Kozume Kenma, by the way, haha, no chance you remember if I don't introduce myself, right?  
So, I've been thinking about you. There I said it. I sort of had a crush on you in high school. And I kind of had the feeling you liked me to? Do you remember the time you ditched half a set and just sat with me in the hallway? You wore the most adorable pokésocks :)  
You tucked my hair behind my ear and called me pretty! I also thought you said you wanted to kiss me, but you spoke so softly, I'm not sure. Anyway, Kuroo came and interrupted us. He's my best friend but he can be such an overprotective shit at times :/  
I never got the chance to speak with you again after that. I know it's almost nine years ago, but every time I meet someone and try my hands on a relationship, you keep popping up in the periphery of my mind. I think I still like you.  
I'm probably completely off the rails here, you're probably married and have two children by now.  
Sorry if this letter causes you any harm, I don't really expect anything from sending it, I just need to at least try.  
Hope you are well.

Yours  
Kenma

“Pretty,” he had said it. “I want to kiss you?” His mouth tried to push the words out again now that he knew they were true. He remembered it all clearly now, how mad he got when he first read the letter, believing someone was pulling his finger. He remember how he had started crying when he started to believe in the contents of it. And he remember grabbing the letter and his car keys, storming out of his building, trying to reach his long lost crush as soon as possible. Not wanting to waste any time writing back, or risk saying something rash over the phone and ruining everything. He was almost there when the car crashed, so he was most likely hospitalised near Kenma's hometown. Kenma. That was it. The name that had felt so wrong were now restored, he could see him clearly now, in his mind, the long hair falling softly in front of the sweetest, most innocent face. A face that made Suguru act against his own nature, made him want to be, if not nice, at least less mean.

Suguru fought to open his eyes, he wanted so badly to see Kenma again, what did he look like now? Short hair? Longer hair? The same as before? Maybe he had grown a beard? No, he felt himself chuckle inwardly, the thought of Kenma with a beard to ridiculous.

“Pretty.” “I want to kiss you.” “Pretty, I want to kiss you” he repeated the words over and over, trying his damnedest to open his mouth, giving sound to the words. “Pretty! I want to kiss you!” He said stubbornly. Hey, was that audible? A small gasp broke through the humming, before gentle fingers touched his face. “Suguru?” “Are you awake?” the voice were so close and he could feel something tickling his face. "I want to kiss you to!" A low whisper, then his mouth was covered by Kenma's. It was sweet and innocent and light. His eyes finally found the will to open and he looked up at the prettiest face he had ever seen, golden hair falling like a curtain around their faces, an angel both in voice and looks. “I have missed you, Pretty” Suguru whispered, before another kiss melted them together.

-

Daishō Suguru used to take pride in his slipperiness. He was an asshole and well aware of that fact. It didn't matter to him one bit that he knew all to well, that taunting others, picking on them, pointing out random peoples flaws just for fun or personal gain, was wrong. It was part of him. Always had been, always would be. He had long ago written himself off. Come to terms with the fact that his inner potentially nice guy, would never reach the surface. But now, lying in a hospital bed, he could find it in himself to consider looking for positives within. He finally had the desire to do so.

So, as he climbed up from the deep corners of a coma he found himself with loving feelings and positive thoughts about, well, everything. Not that he minded. He mostly felt safe and confident with himself. No longer lonely at times, and it was far better than the alternative.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Just to clarify; Kenma's grandma are out of hospital and doing well and Daishō eventually becomes less hostile towards Kuroo :D
> 
> Comments and kudos are of course highly appreciated ;)


End file.
